


A Religion With a Fallible God

by zillah37 (visionshadows)



Series: A Religion With a Fallible God [1]
Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionshadows/pseuds/zillah37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is kicked out of the closet. And then he's kicked out again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it's all about the he said, he said bullshit

  

Rock star kicked out of the closet by former lover.  


  

While promoting his new movie _Gods and Lovers_ on Friday, Justin Timberlake revealed that he is currently suffering from his own heartache much like the main character of the film, Douglas. With a dramatic sigh, he proclaimed that he recently broke up with his boyfriend of two years, Chris Kirkpatrick. 

Yes, _that_ Chris Kirkpatrick. The rock star with too many piercings, way too many tattoos, an out of style mohawk, and a tendency to wear fishnet stockings. The same Chris Kirkpatrick who has been linked off and on for the past ten years with model Danielle Robb. The two even have a seven year-old daughter together. 

Timberlake covered his mouth with a well-faked shocked expression when he ‘realized’ he’d actually said Chris’s name. With a sheepish grin, he apologized to Chris, saying that he hadn’t meant to slip up and out him to the world. 

Well this reporter thinks that was _exactly_ what Timberlake was trying to do. Perhaps this breakup was not as amicable as Timberlake would want us to believe.   
  
---  
  
 


	2. it's all about the he said, he said bullshit

A newspaper landed on the breakfast table with a loud thump. In between bites, Chris reached out and turned it over, refusing to look at the headline.

“I told you I didn’t want to see that shit at breakfast.” Chris looked over at his manager, narrowing his eyes. “Can’t you at least give me that?”

“Oh this one is really good.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest. “This one has pictures of the two of you together.”

Chris shrugged a bit, refusing to turn the newspaper back over. “Why are you surprised by that?”

“I’m not. I’m just starting to wonder if you’re going to say anything.”

“About what?” Chris reached for another piece of bacon. “The fact I like a dick in my ass every now and then?”

Lance didn’t say anything for a long time, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Chris, it sure seems like it’s more than every now and then.”

“What do you want me to say, Lance?” Chris looked at him seriously. “What do you want?”

“I’ve been your manager since you were 18 and I was 16,” Lance said quietly. “We’ve been through hell together trying to get you somewhere in this business. And we made it. You’re a fucking star. I just want to know why you never said anything. To me of all people. I’m your best friend!”

“I’m gay.”

Lance exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair. “How long?”

“My whole fucking life! That’s how these things work, you know.” Chris sat back as well. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”

“From now on.” Lance’s eyes opened again and bored into him. “Tell me things like this. I deserve to know as your manager and most importantly as your friend. Christ, Chris.”

Chris picked up his fork again, spearing a piece of pancake. “I don’t think there’s going to be anything else quite like this.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

“If there is, I owe you.”

“No.” Lance picked up the newspaper and opened it. “You owe me again.”

 

 

The studio crowd clapped politely as the unnaturally blonde host leaned forward in her chair, microphone raised to her perfectly shaped red lips, her blue eyes looking at her guest compassionately.

Joe snorted and reached for the remote, but Chris stilled his hand. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Who cares what he has to say?” Joe looked over at his best friend. “The guy is a jerk.”

Chris looked over at him. “You don’t even know him.”

“Tell me you wanted to be outed like this.” Joe gestured angrily at the TV. “Tell me you wanted this when you first started sleeping with him.”

“Shut the fuck up, Joe.” Chris turned up the volume as the crowd clapped politely some more. “I don’t know what I wanted when I first started sleeping with him.”

Justin Timberlake smiled softly at the host, his eyes earnest as he began to talk again about the relationship he’d had with Chris Kirkpatrick. The details were defined enough to give weight to his story, but hazy enough to leave a lot to the imagination. Two years was a long time and Chris hoped that there were some things that Justin considered to be between the two of them.

Chris closed his eyes as he listened to Justin talk about how they hid their relationship even though Justin was out, the pain Justin felt when he saw Chris with women, how he always felt like he was Chris’s dirty secret.

“I’m going to turn it off, man,” Joe said quietly, reaching for the remote again. “We don’t need to hear this.”

“I didn’t love him or anything.”

Joe put his arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Even if you did, man, it’s alright. This shit’ll blow over and we’ll get back to what we always do. Drink, party, and make some fucking awesome music.”

Chris nodded, watching as Joe flipped through channels to find a ball game. He didn’t know who was playing, didn’t even care. All that mattered was that it wasn’t Justin Timberlake telling the world he was queer as a three dollar bill.

 

 

“This is fucking shit!” Chris shouted, grabbing a lamp and flinging it against the wall. “Make them fucking go away!”

Lance sat on the couch, the wreckage of Chris’s living room surrounding him. He casually crossed his legs and waited.

Chris tilted his head back and screamed, a long, loud sound of anger and frustration. He turned and grabbed a pile of magazines, ripping at them, tearing the glossy covers with his face on them as best he could. He panted, tossing them aside before looking at Lance again.

“I told you to make them go away.”

“And I’m doing the best I can,” Lance said to him calmly. “Do you want me to go get the china?”

Chris’s nostrils flared and he kicked at the coffee table. “No. I think I’m going to vent my anger on the lawn furniture.”

Lance stood up, putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Frankly, I thought you’d do this days ago.”

Chris shrugged, kicking at the table again. “Just get them off my property so I can leave the house.”

“Go destroy the lawn furniture. I’ll get them back to the curb.”

 

 

“They’ve been calling Danielle for days now,” Lance said calmly. “She’s so far had no comment.”

Chris doodled on the notepad in front of him, ignoring everything that was being said. Damage control. At least that’s what Lance called it when he scheduled a meeting between the two of them, his producer, and the label.

“We’re going to hold off on making a comment as a label until Chris says something,” Johnny, the representative from his record label, said. “We do, however, suggest that happens soon.”

“Nope,” Chris chimed in. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’d prefer your name dragged through the mud by this fag trying to get a bigger box office for his shitty film?” Johnny folded his hands on the table. “May I remind you that you also have an album coming out in a month?”

Chris stood up, tossing his notepad on the table. “Don’t call him a fag in front of me again.” He looked over at Lance. “I’m leaving. Make some fucking decisions for me, Lance. Just don’t tell me I have to talk to anyone about it.”

Lance got up and pulled him aside, hands wrapped firmly against Chris’s forearms. “Just sit back down and we’ll come up with something.”

“Do they really think I wanted this?” Chris hissed at him, his jaw clenching. “I didn’t ask Justin to out me to inconvenience them.”

“I know that,” Lance assured him softly. “I’m trying to help here. I know it doesn’t fucking matter who you screw, but your audience isn’t exactly the most forgiving of folks. You being gay might have some repercussions on album and concert sales. We have to think about that.”

“Rob Halford is gay.” Chris started to relax slightly as Lance smoothed his hands over Chris’s forearms. “I’m less gay then him.”

“Only by a couple of pairs of chaps and a thick mustache.” Lance smiled at him gently. “You going to come sit back down?”

Chris nodded. “I really don’t want to do an interview about this.”

Lance let go of his arms and gestured at the table. “Then let’s put our heads together and figure out a way to spin this.”

 

 

Chris turned the door knob, pushing open the front door and stepping into the familiar foyer. A dog came skittering around the corner, sliding on the marble floor. With a loud woof, he slammed into Chris’s legs before sitting and panting up at him with a doggy grin.

“Hey Archie.” Chris knelt down and scratched the dog behind his ears. “Is your mom around?”

Archie woofed again and spun around, loping off in the direction of the kitchen. Chris followed, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to show up.”

Chris sat down at the kitchen table, playing with the tablecloth and resolutely not looking at Danielle. “Yeah, well. Things have been a little crazy lately.”

Danielle tossed the washcloth in the sink and stalked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. Chris finally looked up at her, biting on his lip.

“Have you forgotten that you have a daughter and I’ve been the one who has had to try and explain to her what the hell is happening when I don’t even understand what’s going on.” Danielle balled her hands. “What is going on, Chris?”

“He’s telling the truth,” Chris said softly. “I met him at some awards show and I slept with him. We got together a few weeks later and found out we actually liked talking to each other, so we started seeing each other. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“I have stood by you for ten years. All you had to do was say ‘hey Dani, I met this guy.’ I would have fucking understood!”

“I couldn’t say it!”

“Obviously since you haven’t said shit except ‘no comment’ since it all started.” Danielle slammed her fist down on the table, her eyes wild. “This isn’t just about you anymore, Chris. Think about your daughter. People ask her at school if her dad is a queer like that other guy said. And then when she says her daddy loves her mommy, they all laugh at her.”

“People are saying that to Marta?” Chris’s voice dropped a bit. “Really?”

“Yes.” Danielle’s voice lowered as well. “They are. And it hurts the hell out of her because her daddy is her hero and she loves you so much and you can’t even bring yourself to call her on the phone since this happened.”

Chris ran his hand through his hair, growling low in his throat. “Dani, I met this guy. And I really liked him a lot. But he turned out to be an asshole and I’m still looking at guys asses instead of girls tits. So yeah. I’m gay, but I love you and I love my little girl and I’m sorry.”

Danielle slumped in the chair. “You better stay for dinner tonight.”

 

 

The bartender slid another beer towards Chris, leaning on the counter to smile at him. “Come on, sweetheart. Not even a little bit of a smile?”

Chris took the beer and shook his head. “Not today. Sorry.”

“Whatever, darling. But I’m going to ask you again later.”

Chris watched as the bartender turned and headed to the other end of the bar. It was fairly empty at this point and frankly, Chris couldn’t fathom why he was even at a gay bar. If he was recognized, it would confirm Justin’s accusations.

“You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Chris looked up from the condensation rings his beer left on the counter and found himself facing a beautiful man. “Aren’t we all?”

The man chuckled and sat down next to him, tucking a short curl behind his ear. “Want to talk about it?”

Chris shook his head. “Knowing my luck, you’re a reporter and anything I say will become front page news.”

The man tipped his head to the side, looking at him. Chris felt oddly warmed by his gaze. “I’m not a reporter. Scout’s honor.”

“Were you really a Boy Scout?”

“No. But I did eat a Brownie once.”

Chris laughed and held out his hand. “Name’s Chris.”

“I’m JC. Nice to meet you, Chris.” JC shook his hand firmly, smiling at Chris. “So, how ‘bout I buy you a drink and you get some of that weight off your shoulders.”

“I’ve already got a drink.” Chris tipped the bottle slightly in his direction. “But thanks anyway.”

“I’ll buy you another,” JC said softly. “If I tell you that I’m not hitting on you, will you change your mind?”

Chris licked his lips, looking at him again. “And here I was hoping you were hitting on me.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Chris wanted to take them back. His world was falling apart and he was flirting with a man who was undeniably attractive, but also a complete stranger. Definitely a no-no in Chris’s book, mostly because Lance told him it was. Right now, he didn’t care and pushed Lance’s scolding voice away, focusing on JC’s warm smile and sensual lips.

JC smiled and shook his head, shifting a bit on his stool. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, this place isn’t exactly catering to the strictly heterosexual crowd,” Chris said dryly. “And I assume you’ve read a paper or watched the news once or twice recently.”

“You’ve never confirmed anything,” JC said simply, his eyes warm and understanding. “I don’t believe the tabloids or actors looking for a bigger box office.”

“Keep saying things like that and a boy could fall in love with you.” Chris finished his beer, setting it on the counter. “You can buy me that drink now.”

 

 

Chris woke first, his eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness. He could feel the solid length of JC’s body pressed against his side, JC still sleeping soundly.

It had been incredibly stupid of him to let JC take him home. It had been even stupider to not get out of bed as soon as the sex was over. The smartest thing he could do now was leave before JC woke up and hope that this didn’t come back to bite him on the ass.

But he stayed in bed, his hand resting heavily against JC’s back. JC had kicked off the sheets during the night, exposing himself to Chris’s hungry gaze. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it trailed over the curve of JC’s ass.

JC murmured and turned his head to peer at Chris sleepily. A look of surprise crossed his face and he seemed to wake up immediately. For a moment, Chris thought he looked scared, but it passed quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to still be here,” JC admitted. “But I’m glad you are.”

Chris looked down, his eyes tracing the pattern of the flames on his forearm. He gave a bit of a shrug, automatically leaning into JC’s warmth when JC put his arms around Chris.

“I like you,” JC murmured, his breath warm against Chris’s ear as he spoke. “I’d like you to stay.”

“I don’t even know you,” Chris said to him, watching as JC’s fingers rested against a small tattoo on his hip of Marta’s name and birth date. “All I know is that you have a wicked tongue and like short guys with mohawks.”

“I don’t like short guys with mohawks,” JC said, his cheek pressed against Chris’s shoulder. “You’re an exception.”

“Because of who I am?” asked Chris, his voice tight.

“No.” JC kissed Chris’s bare skin. “Because you make me smile. I had a wonderful time last night even before the sex. I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“I’ll think about it.”

JC tangled his hand with Chris’s. “Have dinner with me tonight?”

“I suppose dinner is harmless enough,” Chris said quietly. “We both have to eat.”

“Might as well eat together.”

Chris turned his head to look at JC, staring into blue eyes that seemed so harmless. He moved to kiss him, pushing all thoughts of repercussions from his mind.

 

 

“So I met someone,” Chris said calmly, pushing a beer across the table to Lance. “And I think it’s going to become something.”

“Become something?” asked Lance, accepting the beer.

“Something.” Chris waved his hand. “You know. Big.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and took a drink of his beer. “Do I need to spin this?”

Chris shook his head. “Don’t say anything. I’m not planning to.”

Lance nodded and got to his feet, ambling over to the pantry. “Chips or pretzels?”

“Chips.” Chris twisted open his beer and took a drink. “So how do you feel about this?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Lance admitted, sitting back down and opening the bag of chips. “Tell me about him.”

Chris rolled the bottle in his hands, his brow a bit furrowed. “He’s not in the business. I think that’s the best part.”

“Does he have a name?”

“JC,” said Chris. “JC Chasez.”

“I’ve heard that name before,” Lance said cautiously. “Haven’t I?”

“He’s a writer. I think he’s had a few things published in magazines and stuff,” Chris said vaguely. “Kind of a short story thing. I think.”

“As long as he’s not a reporter, I don’t give two shits what he writes,” Lance said. “Bring him over before I head to New York to take care of your promotions.”

Chris nodded. “I will.”

Lance popped a couple of chips in his mouth. “You want to watch bad porn tonight? Joe’s got a couple of new flicks. Or do you want to moon over some guy?”

“Sure.” Chris shrugged a bit. “I can moon and critique porn at the same time.” He leaned forward and smacked Lance on the back of his head. “Fucker. I’m a guy. I don’t moon.”

“Suuure.” Lance snorted as he rubbed the back of his head. “You don’t moon at all. I’ll buy that just as soon as I buy into the theory of Atlantis.”

“Hey, Atlantis is a real place. MacGuyver said so.”

“MacGuyver is not always right,” Lance said sagely. “Even if he can build a bomb out of a rubber band and some chewing gum.”

 

 

“So is this like a date?” JC asked, leaning over the table to stab at Chris’s cheesecake.

Chris blocked him with his fork, sparring for a moment before letting JC take some. “Yeah. It’s just like a date because it is a date.”

JC laughed, smiling brightly at him. “You’ve never called it a date before. It’s always just been hanging out and wild, crazy sex at the end of the night.”

“We still get wild, crazy sex at the end of the night if we’re on a date. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a word.”

“But it’s a word you haven’t admitted to before now,” JC said, taking a bite of his own ice cream. “Not afraid to be dating me now?”

“Fucker,” Chris said fondly. “Just because some of us didn’t realize we were gay when we were prepubescent boys playing with Barbie doesn’t mean you get to make fun of me.”

“I never played with Barbies. I just dressed my GI Joe’s in my sister’s Barbie outfits,” JC said primly. “Get it right.”

Chris held up a hand. “I stand corrected.”

JC looked at him for a long time, eating his ice cream in silence. He pushed the bowl away and smiled at Chris.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Do I have something on my face?”

JC shook his head. “No. I think we should blow this place so I can go blow you.”

Chris dropped his napkin on the table and held up his hand. “Check please!”

 

next


	3. i must be an acrobat to talk like this and act like that

  

Outed Rocker releases new album.  


  
Chris Kirkpatrick's newest album, _Grimace_ , hits the shelves today to hopefully a warm reception. The album is, as always, full of hard chords and rough, honest lyrics. His longtime collaborator, Joe Fatone, has once again brought depth to Kirkpatrick's melancholy voice.  
  
Kirkpatrick, as we all know, has been facing a tough road this past month since actor Justin Timberlake outed him during an interview. He's made no comment and has been seen numerous times in the presence of his now ex-girlfriend Danielle Robb and their daughter Marta.  
  
However, Robb has been spotted around town with fellow model Kevin Richardson. The two have been seen snuggling at Koi and Dolce in the past week and seemed very cozy picking up Marta from school.  
  
Does this mean Kirkpatrick has been left out in the cold? Not according to this reporter. He's been seen with a yet unnamed fellow eating dinner at Swingers diner every night this week.  
  
We wish Kirkpatrick luck with his album – and his love life. 

    
  
---  
  
 

[next](http://www.because-yes.com/rachel/serials/religion/2.html)


	4. i must be an acrobat to talk like this and act like that

Chris bumped his hip against JC’s, snickering a bit before sitting down at the table. Joe was already eating, shoveling rice and beans into his mouth at a rapid rate.

“Fuck, Fatone,” Lance smacked him in the back of the head. “Eat like a civilized person for once, will you?”

Joe just gave him the finger and reached for the platter of grilled mojo chicken from the Cuban place around the corner. After piling about half the dish on his plate, he handed it to JC. 

“Eat fast or else he’ll take it off your plate,” Chris advised.

JC put some food on his plate and passed it on. “I learned that the first time I ate with the three of you.”

Lance set the beers on the table before sitting down as well. “He’s an animal. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him.”

“I stay out of her hair for six months out of the year while I live with you two fucks,” Joe said through a mouthful of chicken. “And I never comment on how many shoes or purses she has. You should learn how to do that and maybe you would keep a girl for more than one day.”

“I get all the girls I want,” Lance said easily. “Why would I settle down when I get all the ass I want?”

“You’re a philistine, Bass.” Joe snorted. “Even Chris settled down with Danielle. And broke up with her before he fucked someone else.”

“Never had a reason to cheat on her.” Chris took a swig of his beer. “I could always go back to her when I was done with the latest fling. And now I got JC so I don’t need to worry about looking for ass.”

Joe nodded. “No reason to run around then. Try it out once, Lance. You might like it.”

“You’re a lying motherfucker, Kirkpatrick,” JC said fondly. His hand squeezing Chris’s thigh. “Does this mean I can buy some shoes on your tab then?”

“Go ahead, man. I can afford shoes. You want a card with your name on it or is cash fine?”

JC snorted. “Cash is fine. No paper trail.”

“He learns fast.” Lance laughed, shaking his head. “Not like Dani. She loves her credit cards.”

“I got no problem with her having credit cards and buying things on my dime,” Chris said. “She’s my friend and she’s the mother of my little girl.”

Joe waved his hand a bit. “How is Marta?”

“As good as ever,” Chris said proudly. “She got an A on her last math test.”

“So she got her mother’s brains as well as looks. Lucky girl.” Lance laughed, getting up to get another beer. “Anyone else want another beer?”

“I’ll take one,” said JC, getting to his feet to help. He followed Lance into the kitchen. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Lance turned to look at him. “Sure.”

“Do you guys mind that I’m here?” asked JC softly. “I know this is one of your things and if you don’t want me here, I can spend time with Chris later.”

Lance shook his head and handed JC another beer from the fridge. “We like you. If we didn’t want you here, we would let you know. In case you haven’t noticed, none of us are tactful in the least. I can play it up better than the other two because I’m management, but when it comes to just the three of us, I’m just as bad as them.

“Fuck, man. You’re like a male Danielle. She’s the only other one who’s ever been allowed to join in like this.” Lance squeezed his shoulder. “We like you, man.”

JC nodded and nudged Lance’s shoulder with his own. “Thanks. I don’t want to bring anymore shit down on his head.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. The shit is there and it’s sticking around until he decides to come clean which won’t be anytime soon. We’ve gotten lucky when it comes to album and concert sales, but every review of the new album comes complete with a mention of his sexuality, Justin Timberlake, and his poor little girl. Now, you’re starting to crop up as well.”

“Yeah, I know.” JC leaned against the fridge, his expression conflicted. “I never wanted that. You have to know that.”

“Believe me,” Lance said as he moved close, his face serious. “If we thought you did, you’d be gone so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you. I might be a nice guy, but you fuck with Chris and that nice guy is long gone.”

JC swallowed. “Got it. Don’t fuck with Chris.”

Lance laughed and smacked JC’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to fuck him though. Apparently he likes that.”

 

 

Chris wiped his brow and waved to the studio audience. He slapped the hand of the guitarist before sauntering over to the sofa and sitting down next to Jay Leno. He could do these things with his hands tied behind his back having been in the business for almost twelve years now.

Jay clapped politely, holding up the CD case. “The new album is called _Grimace_ and I can honestly say I like this one.” The crowd laughed. “I know I say that all the time, but I’ll actually listen to Chris’s stuff. He hasn’t let me down yet.”

“Thanks, Jay,” Chris shifted in his chair. “Glad to hear that. I couldn’t sleep at night knowing I’d let you down.”

Jay chuckled and set the case down on the desk. “You’ve had a busy couple of months. New album, a bit of scandal.” Jay leaned forward. “So tell me, was Justin telling the truth?”

Chris laughed and waved his finger, scolding Jay. “I’m not answering that and you know it.”

“C’mon,” Jay wheedled, a grin on his face. “The public wants to hear you say whether or not it’s the truth. Am I right, folks?”

The crowd clapped and whistled when Jay turned to them. The whole time, Chris’s face grew stonier and he sat rigid in the chair. When Jay turned back to him, Chris leaned forward, his eyes flashing in anger.

“You want to talk about Danielle or my daughter, go right ahead. Want to ask me how my friends are doing, go for it. Hell, I’ll even talk the album I’m here promoting. But if you really think I’m going to open my mouth and talk about that with you on some late night television show just because you think we’ve got a connection, you got another think coming. So,” Chris stared at him coldly. “You want to ask another question?”

Jay nodded and met his glare. “So tell me a little about the album.”

Chris sat back. “Just a little something we’ve been working on. It’s a pretty strong album thanks to Joe. He really kicked my ass this album and you can see it.”

“Yes we can,” Jay picked up the CD case again. “The album is _Grimace_ and it’s on the shelves now. Pick it up. We’ll be back after the commercial break.”

Once the producers signaled that the cameras were off, Jay leaned in. “You fuck me like that again and you won’t be back here.”

“You ask me a question that you know is on the blacklist and I won’t come near you again,” Chris hissed back at him. “Don’t fuck with _me_ if you want me sitting on your fucking couch.”

“Can’t blame me for trying,” Jay said calmly. “Get the fuck off the couch. See you when you start your tour.”

Chris mock-saluted him and got up. He waved at the studio audience again before swaggering off the set. 

Lance grabbed his shoulder as soon as he was in the green room. “You’re an ass. What’d he say to you?”

“Fuck him like that and I’m not coming back,” Chris smirked. “I told him much the same. He got the list and he strayed off it.”

“Let’s get out of here. Joe’s at the bar waiting for us. C’s with him.” Lance gestured at the door. “The boys are already on their way. You deserve a beer for that.”

“I deserve more than a beer,” Chris pulled on his leather jacket. “You’re using some of your fifteen percent to buy me a bottle of Jack.”

“You got it,” Lance put his arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

 

Chris woke slowly, rolling over and snuggling up against JC’s back. The room was too warm, sun streaming in from open blinds. After a moment, he rolled away again and got out of bed. 

“S’time to get up?” JC mumbled, stretching his arms above his head. 

“Not yet,” Chris leaned over and kissed him, sucking lazily on JC’s tongue. “Gonna turn on the air.”

JC nodded and slid his hand down his own body, his hand stopping at the arch of his hip. Chris chuckled as he padded across the room.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

“Never said I was teasing,” JC lifted one of his legs, bending his knee. “When you’re done, I’ll prove it.”

Chris pulled a light robe on and cinched it around the waist. “I’ll make you prove it.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Chris shut the door behind him and headed downstairs. He scratched Lance’s dog behind the ear, earning himself a lick on the palm. The air conditioner panel was by the front door and Chris flicked it on just as the doorbell rang.

The dog began to bark and Lance’s head appeared over the banister. “You gonna get that?”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Chris opened the front door. “Danielle.” His face lit up. “Marta!”

“Daddy!” 

Chris picked up Marta, hugging her tightly. He saw Kevin standing behind Danielle and he smiled. “Hey, Kevin.”

“Morning, Chris.”

“Come inside,” Chris stepped aside, still holding Marta. “What brings you over?”

“Last minute runway show,” said Danielle apologetically. “I just got the call this morning.”

Chris grinned. “I guess that means you get to hang out with Daddy for a few days.”

Marta laughed and pinched his nose. “Yup. Mommy’s going to Milan with Kevin. Is Uncle Lance home?”

Chris put her down. “He’s in his room. You go tell him it’s time to get up and make us breakfast.”

Marta smirked at him conspiratorially. “I’ll do my best.”

Chris watched as she ran up the steps, the dog skittering behind her. Lance’s bedroom door slammed as she ran inside. 

“You’re evil, Chris.” Danielle shook her head. “Do you mind?”

“I never mind. You know that,” Chris said easily. “So how long is she here for?”

“A week,” Danielle walked towards the kitchen. “Anything to eat? Preferably nothing Joe cooked.”

“There’s some leftover pizza,” Chris called after her. He turned to look at Kevin. “She must be under the required weight if she’s eating.”  


Kevin nodded. “About five pounds or so.”

“That’s good. So how are the two of you?” asked Chris.

“Good,” Kevin smiled a bit. “How’s JC?”

Chris smiled as well. “Good. He’s upstairs.”

“Dani says that you’re happier than you’ve been in a long time,” said Kevin softly. “I’m glad. You’re a good guy, Chris. You deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “I’m slowly learning that. Hey, where’s Archie?”

“Dani’s mom has him,” said Kevin. “She thought it was best since he constantly tries to hump Christie which makes Lance cry.”

“But making Lance cry is never a bad thing.”

Danielle came back out of the kitchen, a half-eaten slice of cold pizza in her hand. “Marta! Come down and say goodbye!”

Lance’s bedroom door swung open and Marta came running downstairs, jumping onto Kevin. He caught her easily and hugged her, kissing her cheek. 

“Be good, okay. We’ll bring you something pretty.”

“I want a purse,” said Marta, squirming out of Kevin’s arms and going over to her mother. “Praaaaada.”

Danielle looked at her skeptically. “You’re seven. What do you need a Prada purse for?”

“To make Elsie jealous of course,” Marta said matter-of-factly. “Plus they’re pretty.”

Danielle chuckled and lifted Marta into her arms, hugging her tightly. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Marta kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, baby. Be good for Daddy. Try not to torture him too much with talk of boys and dating,” said Danielle. “It makes him feel old.”

“Hey!”

Marta laughed and jumped back onto the ground, taking Chris’s hand. “It’s okay, Daddy. You’re not old. You’re aged like cheese.”

Chris covered his heart with his hand and staggered backwards. “You wound me!”

Danielle kissed Chris lightly on the lips. “Have a good week.”

Chris rested his hand on her side, kissing her back just as lightly. “I will, baby. You two make sure to do everything I would do in Milan.”

“Chris, we’d rather not be arrested,” Danielle laughed and took Kevin’s hand. “We’ll see you both soon.”

“I’m going to go make cereal,” Marta said to Chris, not looking back at Danielle and Kevin again. It was her way of dealing, not watching her mother leave. “Want some?”

“You bet,” Chris ruffled her hair. “I’ll be there in a minute.”  
  
Chris watched her go before turning back to Danielle and Kevin. “She’ll be fine. Have fun.”

Danielle and Kevin headed out the front door. Chris watched for a moment before heading into the kitchen where Marta was sitting at the table, two bowls of cereal out.

Chris kissed the top of her head and sat down. “So what cereal delicacy are we having today?”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” said Marta, picking up her spoon. “Eat, Daddy.”

Chris picked up his spoon and did as he was told.

 

 

JC leaned over to open the passenger side door for Marta, sitting back when the little girl slid inside. His cell phone was to his ear and he gestured for her to give him a hug. He grinned, accepting the hug she easily bestowed.

Marta turned in the seat to wave at her friends once more before settling down and putting her seat belt on. JC carefully pulled away from the curb and headed back towards the freeway.

“I’ll call you later. I don’t want to talk about this anymore right now.” JC paused. “It’ll be soon. Now leave me alone.”

JC shut the phone with a snap and looked over at Marta again. “So how was school?”

“Booooring,” Marta said dramatically. “All we did was math and history today. And during lunchtime, one of the boys sucked his mashed potatoes up his nose with a straw. How juvenile.”

“Boys often are,” JC said knowingly, checking his mirrors. “I’m sure your father did stuff like that when he was that age.”

“Daddy does stuff like that now.” Marta leaned forward to fiddle with the air conditioner vents. “How come you picked me up today?”

“Your dad is in a meeting,” JC said. “So I told him I would pick you up on my way to his house. I thought we could make dinner together.”

Marta thought about that for a moment. “What kind of dinner?”

JC shrugged. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Hot dogs. Real ones,” Marta said quickly. “Mommy never lets us have them. She makes me eat soy dogs.”

JC wrinkled his nose. “Ick. I think we should definitely have hot dogs then. Maybe with baked beans and macaroni and cheese.”

Marta looked pleased. “Can I make the macaroni and cheese?”

“Of course you can.” JC smiled at her. “Let’s hit the market and get what we need. I haven’t looked in the fridge recently.”

Marta nodded and looked out the window. “How come you stay at your apartment sometimes? Daddy said that you don’t work like other people because you’re a writer.”

“Oh,” JC said vaguely. “I have things I have to do. Sometimes I write articles for magazines and it’s easier for me to do that at home where I’m alone.”

“What kind of articles?”

“Mostly articles about writing. So are you excited about your dad going on tour again?” asked JC, changing the subject.

“Daddy said that I can come see him when he’s in New York and Florida,” Marta said happily, not even noticing the change in subject or the tension on JC’s face. “So we can go shopping and the good Disney.”

“I’ll try and join you for that.” JC promised. “I haven’t been to the Disney since I was a kid.”

“The _good_ Disney,” Marta stressed. “Not like the one here.”

“The good Disney,” JC repeated as he pulled into the parking lot. “I’ll be sure not to forget that.”

Marta unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed the small, pink purse she insisted on carrying everywhere. JC got out as well, taking her hand as they walked to the store. 

Across the way, a photographer snapped a picture of the two of them, JC smiling down at Marta and her hand firmly in his. 

 

 

“Look up,” Britney ordered, brandishing an eyeliner pencil like a weapon. “Or else I’ll poke your eye out.”

Chris grumbled and looked up at the ceiling. “Why do I keep you around?”

“Because you’ve been ‘punk rock’ since you were sixteen and you still can’t put eyeliner on yourself,” said Britney matter-of-factly as she drew a thick, dark line under Chris’s eye. “Plus you like to look at my ass before going onstage.”

“I think it’s the abuse,” said Joe from the corner where he was reading a paper. “Chris likes to be abused.”

“I keep _you_ around for the abuse,” Chris retorted, trying to look at him without moving. “And your hot ass.”

“You best be keeping your eyes off my ass if you want me to keep abusing you.”

“Don’t worry.” Chris turned to look at him this time. “It’s only because JC’s not here to look at his ass. You’re the second choice ass if it makes you feel better.”

“Not much,” Joe said dryly. 

Britney smacked Chris’s arm. “If you don’t stop moving I’m going to fuck up. Don’t make me go Ringling Brothers on you.”

Chris muttered something under his breath, but he leaned back in the chair and let her continue. Tension thrummed under his skin though, and he began to tap his fingers against the arm rests. He always got like this before a show. 

Joe rose to his feet quickly, the paper still in his hand. “I’ll be back.”

Britney watched him go. “Think it’s time for him to take a shit?”

Chris turned to look as well, shrugging a bit before settling back in the chair. Britney leaned back over him and went back to work.

 

 

Lance grabbed Chris as soon as he was offstage, ushering him into his dressing room immediately. Chris pulled away from him, grabbing a towel and wiping himself down. 

“What the fuck is going on? Why is everyone looking like someone died? Did someone die?” 

“We have a situation,” Lance said in clipped tones. “Someone close has been talking. A lot.”

Chris rummaged in a cooler for a bottle of beer, satisfied that no one had died. “About what?”

Lance’s nostrils flared. “Whether or not you’re a top or a bottom for one.”

“What?” Chris froze, his face paling quickly. “That’s not funny, Lance.”

“Does it look like I’m joking? There’s an article which quotes an unnamed source in the Kirkpatrick camp,” said Lance, his arms crossed over his chest. “And it spills everything, Chris. _Everything_. This could be worse than Justin.”

Chris sat down heavily, the beer forgotten. “Just one article?”

Lance closed his eyes. “The TV tabloids jumped on it.”

“I want to go out for a drink,” said Chris quietly. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. Right now, I want to come down from my show high, drink a hell of a lot, and fuck my boyfriend. So could you get Britney in here to get this shit off my face?”

“Speaking of your _boyfriend_ ,” Lance said roughly. “Where is he?”

“He’s meeting me at the hotel. He had a meeting with his editor yesterday.” Chris looked at Lance, shaking his head. “Oh no. He had nothing to do with this.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

 

 

“This is fucking crazy,” Chris exclaimed as he paced around the hotel room, a beer in his hand. He turned to look at JC when the other man entered the room. “Who would want to do this to me? Who did I fuck over so much in a past life that they want to make mine this hellish?”

“Just sit down and relax,” JC said, walking over and steering Chris to a couch. He seemed nervous, his hands trembling a bit as he touched Chris’s shoulders. I’m sure it’s not as bad as Lance is making it seem.”

“Someone close to me talked,” Chris said, flopping down onto the couch. “I thought that my close people were loyal, but apparently money talks more than friendship.”

JC rubbed his shoulder, his expression grim. “Maybe it wasn’t about money.”

“It’s _always_ about money,” Chris said, nuzzling JC’s neck, unaware of JC’s tension. “At least I have you.”

JC pulled away, getting to his feet and pacing. He ran a hand through his hair, walking over to the window and keeping his back to Chris. 

“It was me.”

Chris stared at JC’s back in shock. “What?”

“I said it was me,” JC said quietly, turning to meet Chris’s gaze. “I did it.”

“You’re fucking with me.” Chris stood up again, Lance’s suspicions echoing in his head now. “Who are you covering for?”

“I’m not covering for anyone.” JC walked back towards him tentatively, his hands balled into fists by his sides. “I wrote the article. Remember that day we met in the bar and you asked if I was a reporter? I lied.”

Chris felt his heart pound in his chest. He felt light-headed as he stumbled back to the couch, sitting down heavily. JC stayed where he was, his expression pained.

“I didn’t want to do it once I knew you. My editor thought it would be a great way to get the inside story on what had happened. I was just supposed to seduce you and leave it at that. All he wanted was confirmation.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”

“You didn’t mean to fall in love with me,” Chris said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “What about making me fall in love with you? Was that supposed to happen?”

“No. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” JC took an aborted step forward. “I wasn’t excepting to have you trust me. I wasn’t expecting to be accepted by your friends and family. I didn’t know what to do when that happened.”

“You wrote that article about me. You took the most private parts of my life and told the whole world. Jesus fucking Christ!” Chris threw the beer bottle against the wall with a resounding smash. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because it’s my fucking job!” JC shouted back at him. “It wasn’t my choice. I tried to shelf the article once I was too far inside to be objective. But I’m had to deliver. I have a job that will fire me if I don’t turn in my articles. I held off as long as I could.”

“Why did you change the plan? Why didn’t you just seduce me and leave?”

“Because I spent five minutes with you and realized pretty damn quick that I wanted to spend a lot more time with you.” JC moved towards him hesitantly. “I delivered my article. This will never happen again.”

Chris looked up at him, amazed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you stay in my life?”

JC dropped his hand and stepped back. “No, but a boy can hope.”

“Get out,” said Chris, standing up and walking towards him slowly. “Get out right now before I fucking kill you with my bare hands.”

“Chris...” JC backed up. “Please.”

“Get out! Get out!”

JC turned and fled, the door slamming behind him. Chris took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm down. He walked over to the door and flung it open, seeing a bodyguard there. 

“Get Lance. Now.”

He slammed the door shut and sat down on the couch to wait for Lance to come fix everything again. After a moment, Chris buried his face in his hands and began to sob.  
  
---  
  
 

[next](http://www.because-yes.com/rachel/serials/religion/3a.html)


	5. if i can't control the web we weave, my life would be lost in the fallen leaves

  

Inside the Madness: Chris Kirkpatrick finally speaks.  
 _by AJ McLean_

 

The drive to Chris Kirkpatrick’s mansion in the hills of Los Angeles takes longer than expected and when we get there, Chris is out front shooting hoops with his long-time manager, Lance Bass. He looks much different than the last time he was seen in public, his mohawk gone, no visible piercings, and a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. The change is obvious and a bit unsettling. 

After quick hellos, Bass disappears and I’m left alone with Chris Kirkpatrick for what is the first one-on-one interview he has done in over a year.

It has been a rough road for Kirkpatrick since that fateful interview Justin Timberlake gave almost two years ago. He’s been the constant target of gossip. Anyone male that is associated with him has been linked to him romantically including Bass and Fatone, his two best friends from high school. 

Today though, he’s decided to come clean about everything including the secret new album he’s been working on and last weekend’s wedding between Danielle Robb – his former girlfriend – and Kevin Richardson. 

Chris: So I promised full disclosure on this, didn’t I?

AJ: That you did.

Chris: [laughs] Too late to retract that now?

AJ: Afraid so. Besides, this was your idea.

Chris: I have some really stupid ideas when I’m drinking. That’s why I keep Lance around. He makes sure I don’t screw myself too much.

AJ: Lance couldn’t stop the last two years from happening though.

Chris: Not from lack of trying. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done to stop the last two years. 

AJ: Except for you.

Chris: See, that’s the thing. I was forced out of the closet well before I was ready. I didn’t even let myself believe that I was actually gay. We all can have phases. Beauty is beauty. Or some shit like that. So I didn’t say anything because I was scared. My mother heard about it on the evening news. My daughter learned about it at school. Who the fuck wants their sexual orientation revealed that way? 

AJ: Are you angry with Justin? 

Chris: [drinks water] I was very angry with him, but I’m not anymore. There’s no point in carrying around that anger any longer. 

Chris: You want a drink or something? 

AJ: No, I’m fine. So why are you sitting on your back porch with a reporter, a photographer and no handlers in sight, talking about your sexuality? 

Kirkpatrick grows silent at that, staring out at the pool in his backyard. Finally, he looks back at me and gets to his feet, pacing along the porch as he talks. 

Chris: I fell in love. 

AJ: You don’t seem that happy about it. 

Chris: I’ve spent the last year coming to terms with the fact I fell in love and rather quickly, lost that love because of who I am. He was linked to me in the media for about six months last fall. 

AJ: I remember. He’d been seen with your daughter as well. 

Chris: He was a part of my life. It turns out he wasn’t what he seemed though. He was a reporter. I had a fucking reporter intentionally seduce me, but he unintentionally got invested in my life and fell in love with me as well. 

AJ: You’re saying that a reporter seduced you for a story? 

Chris: Shit, he went on to write the article which opened up my life again and killed any chance I have of having a normal relationship with another man. 

AJ: I remember the article. Three days after it was published, you cancelled your tour and disappeared. Until now. 

Chris: I didn’t disappear completely. I stayed home, made a record and took care of my daughter. As for canceling the tour, I would do it again. I would have killed myself if I’d stayed on the road after it happened. As it was, I almost killed myself when I got home. 

AJ: You were suicidal? 

Chris: Not intentionally. I drank myself into a stupor on a daily basis for about three weeks before Lance slapped some fucking sense into me. The story of my life can be summed up pretty simply: Without Lance, I would have been shit. 

AJ: He doesn’t talk much about anything other than you if he can be cornered. He’s very devoted. 

Chris: He’s taken very good care of myself and my career. 

AJ: That he has. He’s said no comment so many times in the past two years, I’m sure he’s lost count. 

Chris: Are you sick of hearing no comment from our corner? 

AJ: You could say that. 

Chris: You want a comment. Alright. Justin Timberlake did not lie once when he spoke about our relationship. We were together for two years until he told me he was sick of being the dirty, little secret and we broke up. A month later, he told the fucking world I like to take it up the ass and since then I’ve been followed around by reporters when I go out to eat, when I take my daughter to the fucking mall, even when I go buy groceries. My comment on all of this shit: Yes, I’m gay. No, I didn’t tell anyone. No, Danielle and Marta didn’t know. Now leave me the fuck alone. 

Chris: That doesn’t mean I want you to walk out right now or anything. But after this interview, I don’t want to be asked about my sexuality again. 

AJ: But we can still talk about it now? 

Chris: We can still talk about it now. 

AJ: The reporter, do you still love him? 

Chris: Couldn’t you ask something easier? Like if I’m willing to part with a kidney or a piece of my liver. 

AJ: I think you answered my question. 

Chris: I still love Danielle too. Granted, she’s never fucked me over and has been a rock through the past 12 years of my life so she’s given me no reason to stop loving her. 

AJ: But despite the fact he ‘fucked you over’ as you put it, you still love him? 

Chris: Yes. Here’s to hoping he reads this and feels like fucking dirt. 

AJ: So you’re still angry at him. 

Chris: Wouldn’t you be? 

Kirkpatrick gestures towards the door. 

Chris: Let’s walk and talk. There’s an album I promised you could hear. And a wedding or something to talk about. 

AJ: [laughs] Is that your way of saying no more questions about your love life? 

Chris: Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t a smart one, AJ. 

    
  
---  
  
 

[next](http://www.because-yes.com/rachel/serials/religion/3.html)


	6. if i can't control the web we weave, my life would be lost in the fallen leaves

Lance tossed two magazines on the kitchen table before going over to pour himself a glass of orange juice. Chris reached over and picked them up, first _Rolling Stone_ and then _The Advocate_ . 

“They turned out well,” Lance said, his back to Chris. “Both are making it clear that your sexuality is just a part of you, not the whole thing. And you managed to clear up pretty much everything that has happened in the past two years.” 

Chris opened the _Rolling Stone_ , looking at the photographs of himself on his back porch, he and Lance playing basketball, Joe laughing as Chris leaned over the mixing board. He smiled and shut the magazine again. 

“About fucking time, you know. I didn’t want this album overshadowed like the last one.” Chris sighed. “That was a pretty fucking good album too, but it’s always going to be associated with bad shit.” 

Lance sat down, smiling at him softly. “We’re all pretty proud of you.” 

“I noticed. Mom came over and made my favorite dinner the day after I did the interviews. She hasn’t done that since the first time an album went gold.” Chris looked at the magazines again. “I think Marta being proud of me is the most important though.” 

“Marta’s never had a reason not to be proud of you.” Lance squeezed Chris’s hand briefly before reaching for the bacon. “Now what are you going to do?” 

Chris smirked and sat back, his hands folded over his stomach. “I never did take Marta to Disney World.” 

“She’s mentioned that a couple of times.” Lance finished his juice. “Go have fun for a little while. The album is done, but the release date isn’t for two more months. Take a vacation.” 

“I’ll take one if you take one,” Chris bargained. “Joe’s already back in Florida with Kelly and the girls. He’s on a vacation.” 

“I’ve already got a hotel booked on the beach in Jamaica.” 

“Don’t forget the sun block.” Chris grinned. “I want you back, not a tomato.” 

Lance threw a piece of bacon at him. 

  

 

The doorbell echoed through the silent house, reaching downstairs in the game room where Chris was sitting on the floor playing Halo 2. The game paused, he headed upstairs to answer the door, muttering silent curses to the fact he had no permanent house staff around to answer the door when he was busy. 

The person standing in his doorway was a surprise though and Chris stared for a long time before opening the door all the way. JC looked at him just as intently. 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve ringing my doorbell.”

JC nodded and wrapped his arms around himself. “Took three shots of tequila too.”

“You never liked tequila.”

“You’re right.” JC grimaced a bit. “I read your interviews.”

“So did a fuck of a lot of people. What’s that got to do with you being on my doorstep?”

JC straightened up and pushed a lock of his now-long hair behind his ear, looking Chris in the eye.

“You still love me.”

Chris snorted. “I also said that I hate you too.”

“I do remember reading that as well. You got no reason to let me inside, Chris, and I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked me off your property right now, but I’d like to sit and talk to you. I miss you.”

“You should have thought about that before you wrote that article.” Chris watched as JC stepped back, nodding a bit. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Come in. I have to go save my game if I’m going to be talking to your sorry ass for a bit.”

JC stepped inside the familiar house and ambled into the living room, looking at the pictures as Chris went to save his game. He picked up a picture of Chris, Marta, and Danielle at Danielle’s wedding.

“Almost looks like we got married in that picture,” said Chris from the doorway. “I was her man of honor.”

“I always thought Kevin was a nice guy.” JC set the picture down. “How is Marta?”

“She just turned nine a couple of weeks ago. She got a Coach bag and a pair of Manolo Blahnik’s out of me. I’m raising a label whore.”

“She’s got a model for a mother, a rock star for a father, and now another model for a stepfather. Seems about right to me.”

Chris shook his head and walked out of the room. “I’m getting a beer. You want one?”

JC followed him, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. “Sure. I doubt it’ll hurt.”

Chris pulled out two beers, handing one to JC before twisting the cap off his own and taking a long drink. He set it back down on the table and gestured for JC to do the same.

JC set it down uncertainly, taking a step back as Chris stepped closer and took a swing at him, connecting with his jaw. Chris looked down at JC sprawled on the floor, a shocked expression on his face.

“Fuck. You’ve been waiting to do that for a year, haven’t you?”

Chris held out his hand to help JC up, hauling him off the ground. “Yeah. Now I’ve done it and I think I can look at you without taking another swing at you. So talk.”

JC pressed his beer against his jaw and went to sit in the breakfast nook, leaning back against the padded seat. Chris joined him, sitting across with the beer in his hands.

“I quit my job the day after you kicked me out. I told my editor that he could go fuck himself for his stupid ideas and he could find himself another reporter. He didn’t seem all that upset about it. 

“I fucked up, Chris. God, I fucked up so badly and I don’t even know what to say to try and make you see how sorry I am.” JC ran a hand through his hair, worrying his lower lip. “If you have any ideas, let me know.”

“You let me hit you. That’s a start.”

JC laughed and took a drink of his beer. He set it back on the table and looked at Chris seriously. “I want to say something and I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Chris shrugged and drank the rest of his beer. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve never been in love before. I didn’t know that it was so hard to stop feeling like half of yourself has been sliced away. Every single fucking day, you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up. Every day. So I’m here to start over. No lies, no half-truths, all cards on the table. I want a chance with you again.”

“You betrayed me.”

“Yes.”

“You entered into a relationship with me under false pretenses.”

“Yes.”

“You then put that relationship on the front page of _The Star_.”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to give you another chance.”

“Yes.”

Chris sat back and closed his eyes. “Christ, JC. You don’t ask for the little things, do you?”

“What’s the point of going into this halfway? Might as well ask for it all and let you argue me down.”

Chris got up and took another beer out of the fridge. “If I say yes, what happens now?”

“We start over. Maybe move a bit slower this time, not fuck on the first date. Not immediately bring me into your life so fully. I don’t know. Whatever you want.”

“And if I say no?”

JC looked at him, his hands on the table, palm up. “I go away again. You’re in control here, not me.”

Chris leaned against the counter. “Love is fallible, JC. Maybe you should try and convince yourself to pin your hopes on another person.”

JC nodded and stood up. “Thanks for the beer.”

Chris waited until JC was almost at the doorway before sighing heavily. He didn’t really want JC to leave now that he was here again.

“That wasn’t a no.”

JC turned to look at him in surprise. “Really?”

Chris looked away, his expression obviously conflicted. “I miss you too.”

“So it’s a yes?”

“I didn’t say that either.” Chris looked back at him, his gaze sharp. “I don’t trust you at all. I won’t be in a relationship with someone I don’t trust.”

JC walked over to him and held out his hand. “So, friends then?”

Chris clasped JC’s hand tightly, trying to ignore the spark of desire that ran up his spine. 

“For now.”  
  
---  
  
[home](http://www.because-yes.com/rachel/serials/religion.html)

**Author's Note:**

> for kim. happy birthday. 
> 
> thank you to dayse, sarah, and amy for beta  
> work. title comes from the quote by jorge  
> luis borges that says: "to fall in love is  
> to create a religion that has a fallible  
> god." section titles from limp bizkit, u2,  
> and david bowie.
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own the characters  
> in this story. anything implied by this  
> story is not true. please leave me alone  
> in my happy place.
> 
> rachel. 11/28/04


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